


A Man's Fair Lady

by DiamondsxStags



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Arya is an OH fangirl, Arya is autistic, Arya is grey-aromantic, F/F, F/M, Includes references to Old Hollywood, Jaime is autistic, Jaqen is autistic, M/M, Modern ASOIAF AU, Multi, Ned is autistic, Sansa is autistic, Sansa is bisexual and polyromantic, Stannis is autistic, Teen!Arya, Theon is autistic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 08:39:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2222637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondsxStags/pseuds/DiamondsxStags
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following an accident that has placed her father in hospital in a coma, Arya Stark feels as if her world is now unsteady and the ground beneath her feet isn't as stable as it used to be. She finds solace in her fencing and in a new movie theater that shows Old Hollywood films on weekends. During her first time there, she meets a man who runs the theater; a man with the same air of mystery as Humphrey Bogart and who has a love for old Hollywood, just like her. As the weeks go by and her father shows no signs of recovering, Arya spends more and more time at the theater and with the man, Jaqen H'ghar, becoming more enveloped in a world of dashing men, beautifully timed shots, and unrelenting, unapologetic hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man's Fair Lady

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theelusiveflamingo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theelusiveflamingo/gifts).



**Chapter One**

 

It had been a week since her dad gone into that coma and still the doctors said there was no change. Arya had thought that by now that there would've been something; a twitch of a finger, a flicker of an eyelid. But nothing. Her father's condition had not improved at all, he remained the same. Arya was not a doctor, but she had thought that the actual doctors would've used all of their wisdom and knowledge to wake her father up by now. This wouldn't be happening if Cary Grant was her father's doctor. If Cary Grant was her father's doctor, surely something would've been done by now.

 _'You've got to stop thinking like that.'_ Arya reminded herself.  _'This isn't an Old Hollywood film. Dad isn't being treated by Cary Grant or Humphrey Bogart or Montgomery Clift or Marlon Brando or any of them. He's got a normal doctor who can't do a damn thing.'_   She kicked a stone that happened to be in her way very hard and sent it flying several yards. She shoved her hands into her pockets and looked down and scowled. Her father's doctor wasn't really that bad, but Arya was in no mood to be charitable. She was no mood for anything except scowling and being angry at the world, which was what she had been doing for the past week.

As a result of her bad mood, Arya had thrown herself into her fencing lessons. She had been dedicated to fencing in the past of course, but now she needed to distract herself and fencing did just that. When Arya was parrying with the other students, she didn't have to think about her father's unmoving body, his slow steady heartbeat, his perfect stillness. All that mattered was Arya and her rapier, which she had named Needle, and how many people she could beat with it.

However, that day, not even fencing was able to help. After a week of nothing, all of Arya's bottled up anger had erupted like a volcano and ended up with her lashing out at several of the boys, reducing a few of them to tears. One of the teachers, Yoren, had been far from impressed. He had take her to a separate room and rapped her hard on the knuckles with his rapier several times, breaking some of Arya's skin and automatically sending tears down her face, but she didn't cry out. She didn't have the energy to. "It's good to see you so robust, but there is such a thing as overkill." Yoren scolded while wrapping bandages around the bleeding knuckles. "I understand that you must be suffering right now, but there's no need to take it out on the boys."

 _'You don't understand.'_ Arya thought spitefully.  _'You don't know a fucking thing.'_ But she held her tongue, she didn't wish to anger Yoren further.

Before she left her fencing class the other teacher, Syrio Forrel, had pulled her aside. "Anger does nothing." He told her simply. "All it does is cloud your vision, makes it so you cannot focus or see clearly. Do you understand?" Arya had nodded simply to please Syrio. It seemed he had believed it as he patted her shoulder. "Take care little one." And he left to help Yoren clear up.

Arya looked down at her bandaged hand, scowling at it.  _'It's not my fault those boys can't fight back.'_ She thought.  _'A lot of them are bigger than me. They could've beaten me if they wanted to.'_   Arya suspected that many of the boys had felt sorry for her and went easy on her as a result. That was really what set her off; at her fencing lessons no one coddled her or treated her with kid gloves like at home, they treated her like just another student, but that day they hadn't and it was just another reminder to Arya as to how much her life had changed now.

Home was different too. Everything was quiet, only Rickon made any noise, by crying and asking where dad was. Mom had changed too. She spent most days in bed, not rising until noon and looking much worse for wear. The last time she was that bad was when Bran had had his fall off the roof and he had slipped into a coma. (But that was different, dad was still around to help.) As a result, Robb and Sansa had taken it upon themselves to be the parents; getting everyone up in the morning and making sure they're ready for school and making breakfast and all the other things dad and mom did before. Jon and Uncle Benjen came around sometimes too to help out. That was how Arya knew her mom had changed; whenever she saw Jon she didn't go cold and curt and she didn't speak to him like he was an unwanted guest, she looked straight through him as if he wasn't there and didn't say a word to him. She didn't say a word to many people these days really.

"Your mom's going through a really tough time right now kids." Uncle Benjen had told them over a dinner that he and Jon had made to give Robb and Sansa a break. (A rabbit stew with turnips and carrots and parsnips. Arya barely ate it.) "I'm trying to get her to see a doctor, but it may take a while. In the mean time, I want you all to know that I'm here for you, 100%."

"So am I." Jon had said. Arya had wanted to cry then. Jon hadn't lived at home since he was fifteen, he had moved out to live with Uncle Benjen after he finally decided he couldn't bare more of mom's cold indifference. "I know I don't live here anymore, but you're still my brothers and sisters and I'm still here for you."

Arya had cried that night, her sobs muffled by Nymeria's fur.

Thinking about all of this, Arya no longer wanted to go home. At least, not yet. She didn't want to go back to silence and blank faces and unspoken fears. She wanted to be out, just for a little while longer. Taking a left at a corner where she usually took a right, Arya decided to let her feet take her wherever those chose to take her. She had Needle with her in case anything happened and her cell phone, just in case.

She just wanted to forget. She didn't want to be Arya Stark, daughter of recently hospitalized Congressman Ned Stark. She wanted to be no-one, just another face on the street.

* * *

 

After a few hours, Arya felt ready to give up and just go home, what was she going to find on this abandoned street anyway? She was just about to turn around when she saw bright lights just further down the street. Curious, she walked in the direction of the lights.

The lights had lead her to an old-fashioned movie theater, the type Arya saw in her beloved Old Hollywood films. The theater's marquee declared in bold, black letters, that tonight they were showing  **BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S**  starring  **AUDREY HEPBURN** and  **GEORGE PEPPARD**.

Arya felt her heart skip. She had never, ever seen a movie theater like this in real life, let alone seen one that said they were showing Breakfast at Tiffany's. If Arya had wanted to watch anything Old Hollywood, she had to get something out at the local DVD store or buy it or watch online or wait for it to show up on TV. But here it was, right in front of her, the opportunity to watch Breakfast at Tiffany's  _in an actual old-fashioned movie theater._

"Hey, kid, are ya gonna stand there all day or are ya gonna buy a ticket?"

Arya jumped slightly and looked behind her to see a bulky, hairy, strong looking man glowering down at her with sharp dark eyes. Judging by his hostile look, Arya guessed that he hadn't seen her face in the papers, or if he had, he failed to recognize her. "We're not a sideshow attraction." He spat.

For a moment, Arya didn't know what to do.  _'Fear cuts deeper than swords.'_ She reminded herself.  _'Fear cuts deeper than swords. Fear cuts deeper than swords.'_ "How much for a ticket then?" She asked boldly.

The man looked her over. "Five bucks." He said finally, in an accent Arya recognized as one that would belong to a long time resident of New York. He got into the ticket booth and gave Arya her ticket in exchange for her money. He waved her past grudgingly and Arya went inside the theater, feeling butterflies in her stomach.

The inside of the theater was well-lit and the floor was covered with red velvet. The walls had vintage posters of old movies inside glass cases bordered with bright light bulbs, dazzling Arya, but in a very good way. There was a food stand and Arya went over, taking full advantage of being in this kind of movie theater. There was a tall, bald man behind the counter who looked very soft, like Jon's friend Sam. Assuming he would be nice because of that association, Arya walked up to counter.  _'Remember to smile.'_ She told herself.  _'Smile like Sansa. People respond better when you smile.'_ "Excuse me?"

The man turned around and looked Arya over, like the other guy. But he didn't look at Arya like she was a criminal, he simply looked curious. "Da?" He said with a very thick accent, one Arya didn't recognize.

"Can I get a large popcorn and a large Mountain Dew?" She got out her wallet and held her credit card at the ready.

The man nodded. "Da." He turned around again and got an empty popcorn box and began to fill it.

"How long have you guys been open?" She asked, trying to seem friendly and make polite conversation. That's what people do right?

The man didn't respond, only looked over his shoulder at Arya with a frown. Arya worried that she had somehow said something wrong and tried to backtrack. "I was just wondering because, you know, I don't know D.C. that well and I was just curious and-" but the man only continued to frown at her babbling.

A chuckle came from behind her. "There's no use talking to him sweet girl." Said a deep voice, which also possessed an accent unknown to Arya. She turned around and saw a tall, strange looking man. He was strange looking because half of his hair was white and the other half red. A bad dye job? Yet despite the odd hair colouring, Arya thought the man handsome. He had kind brown eyes, a strong jaw and a gentle smile that made Arya think of Humphrey Bogart. "His English is limited, a girl is better off keeping her words simple."

Arya, feeling a little flustered, nodded. "I just wanted to know how long this place had been open."

"A little over a week." The man continued to smile. "A girl's eyebrows look like Audrey Hepburn's. Is that intentional?"

Arya felt her face heat up. The man was right, the shaping of her eyebrows was intentional. Arya adored Audrey and wanted to emulate her in any way possible. However, this proved to be difficult without a lot of self-control. But Arya had a gift for eyebrow care and had managed to make hers look identical to Audrey's without much effort, much to her delight. "Yeah." She admitted. "I really love Audrey."

"A girl is in luck then, since we have Breakfast at Tiffany's." The man said with a twinkle in his eye.

The other man behind the counter gave Arya her popcorn and her Mountain Dew and she smiled again to put him at ease. It worked and he returned the smile. "How much is that?"

"Ten." Said the man, after a slight pause.

Arya paid with her credit card and thanked the man. He seemed to have understood that and nodded, before turning to the man with the strange hair and speaking in a language she didn't recognize. However, the man did seem to understand and he smiled and nodded and responded. He then turned to Arya and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Shall we go in?"

Speechless, Arya nodded and followed the man into the theater. It was largely empty, save for a few other moviegoers and a couple who sat right at the back doing something that Arya thought probably shouldn't be done in a movie theater. The man chose a seat at random and gestured to the seat beside him. Arya took it, not entirely sure where her voice had gone.

"A man has been rude." He said. "A man has not introduced himself." He held out his hand, big and calloused and rough. "Jaqen H'gahr."

"Jaqen H'ghar." Arya echoed. She liked how it sounded, and the way it smoothly fell off her tongue. It was different too, much different from all of the other names she had heard. Jaqen H'ghar.

"Does a sweet girl have a name?" He asked, raising his eyebrow rather coyly, hand still held out.

Arya was about to tell him, but she remembered her desire for anonymity. It didn't look like Jaqen H'ghar recognized her any more than the grumpy ticket seller had, but she didn't want to jog his memory with her name. "No-one." She said simply, tentatively shaking his hand. "I am no-one."

Jaqen H'ghar looked amused, but he didn't pressure Arya for her name. He simply nodded and as the lights dimmed and the curtains in front of the screen drew back, Arya felt herself sinking into a feeling she had felt since the accident.

Contentment.

**Author's Note:**

> So I was going to make just one fic for drownedbyyourstandards but this idea was too good to let slip.


End file.
